The Bitter Pill
by ashatanii
Summary: Short and light. Dunbar helps Russo with an annoying problem.


The Bitter Pill.

"Incoming," Marty warned Jim as he tossed a brown paper bag onto the blonde detective's desk. "Asparagus on rye." The sandwich landed neatly between Jim's hands with a thump.

"Asparagus for you, too? Ewww yuk, Karen." Marty handed her sandwich over. "This guy is teaching you some bad habits."

"And we brought those Danish pastries you all like," Tom added. "So, if one of you will do the honors with coffee, I'd say we are ready for a desk picnic."

Jim pulled out his sandwich, and the slightly sour smell of the asparagus wafted up. He would rather have had something substantial, something more… manly but his ego wouldn't allow him to run to fat, and sometimes sacrifices had to be made.

"Scoot over here to eat, Jim, that way Marty doesn't have to turn all the way 'round to see you." Karen patted the empty side of her desk.

Jim scooted, although he'd be just as fine if Marty kept his back to him. But Karen acted like a den mother sometimes, keeping things civil. Hell, without her they'd probably be drinking beer for lunch.

Hank shifted out of the way. "When we're done Hank, you can have your lunch and take your medicine too."

They addressed their sandwiches in comfortable silence broken only by the odd referral to a current case, each in their own world to some degree, taking five from the pressure of work.

Tom and Karen gently argued the merits of a new music style that was emerging in the east side. Jim thought about his workout of the morning and the suggestions his sensei had given him for improving.

Marty was particularly quiet today, his usual banter subdued as he attacked two huge roast beef and egg sandwiches. He'd missed breakfast again this morning, chasing the kid's dog around the house.

The children had watched wide eyed from the doorway, supposedly barring the sneaky pooch from exiting, while Dad administered her birth control pills. Tiny little blue pills that should go down easily the vet had said. Wrap them in a piece of cheese or meat the vet had said. But no, his kid's dog was smart, she must have had one of those Houdini tongues 'cause she could take the cheese block intact, munch, and then pop! The little blue pill would come flying out. The first few times it hit Marty in the face, after that he sat back further, retrieving the now soggy blue pill and trying again.

When he decided he would have to shove it down her throat and went to grab her, she thought he was playing a game. The kids couldn't contain their laughter as Dad chased the little brown and white terrier over the couch back, under the dining table, across the slippery tile floor, where it seemed he would catch her when her claws scrambled, for hold. But no, at the last minute, just as he reached out his hands toward the grinning pup, he slipped too, on what was left of little Anthony's OJ and went sliding into the dishwasher. His impact set it off and filled the room with chugga chugga swish swish sounds, quickly followed by high pitched giggles from the three boys and suppressed laughter from his pretty wife.

Marty sat there trying hard to laugh, but belting the floor with his head made him see stars, and he felt a muscle twinge in his leg. The table had managed to kick him in the thigh on his way under it, and he was sure a corker was coming through.

So instead of laughing he faked a big smile.

To add insult to injury, the little dog interpreted Marty's lying on the floor as the end of the game and came and sat neatly on his lap, licked his face, and grinned. "Thanks, Dad, what a fun game!" her lolling smile said. He lifted his hand. The blue pill was nothing more than a smear on his palm, he showed it to her and she licked it and then curled her lip in disgust. Yuk!

Once the kids and dog were settled back down at their breakfast, Elise brushed off her frazzled love and looked him in the eye. "Marty, this is not working. I can't keep her inside after what she did to the study. I can't keep her outside. You will have to take her to the vet and get him to give her the pills."

"Elsie, I can't pay a vet to give my dog a pill. I just can't."

"Well, then we better hope they aren't females."

"What?" He looked confused.

"When she has pups, we better hope they are not females, because you'll be chasing them around the house too." Elsie turned and began pouring coffee, "I hear the average terrier litter is 6 pups." She shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe we could video it and send it to America's Funniest Home Videos?"

Marty groaned.

"Something wrong with your sandwich?" Tom asked, bringing him back to the squad.

"No, it's good." Marty forgot the dog and hoed in again.

They'd finished lunch, Karen and Jim went to the locker room to make coffee for everyeone. While the coffee percolated, Jim returned with Hank's meager lunch and the medicine the vet had him on for the arthritis that was creeping in.

"You don't feed that dog enough, Jim, he's looking thin."

"He's getting old Marty, and he can't carry any extra weight, he's already getting creaky as it is." Jim explained testily. "Hank, sit."

Marty watched fascinated as Jim took out the pills, placed one on the desk, and patted Hank's head. Then Jim took the top of Hank's muzzle in one hand and inserted the pill down Hank's throat. He repeated the same procedure for the second one. Hank gave a little cough at the end of it. "No, Hank, you didn't spit that did you?' Jim's face screwed up in disgust, looking for a wet dog drooled pill on the floor was not pleasant.

Marty rolled his chair back further and looked over the floor around the dog. "I'm pretty sure it went down, Dunbar."

"You can't see it on the floor?"

"No."

Jim nodded, "Good." He patted Hank again and brought the bowl down from the desk. "Here you are boy, lunch time treat." Hank sat, his eyes on Jim's until Jim gave the command. "Sup." He gobbled the handful of dry buttons in a moment, licked the bowl clean afterward, and wagged his tail. Jim picked up the empty bowl and headed down the corridor to store it and wash his hands. Tom and Karen were yakking in the locker room. "That coffee ready?"

"No, Jim, we'll bring it back." They went back to their discussion.

Marty leaned over and held out a length of beef from his sandwich. Hank's eyes moved between it and Marty's face and then he stood, backed off and whined, looking for Jim.

"You teasing my dog again, Marty?"

Marty jumped, surprised that Jim was back so soon. "No, I wouldn't do that. You gonna have that Danish?" He diverted the conversation.

"No, go ahead." Jim grinned, "Karen and I are watching our weight together."

"You girl!" Marty's laugh was genuine, "Your woman got you on a diet?"

"Yeah, I just can't seem to get enough exercise."

"I thought you went to that gym every day?"

"No, not every day and…" Jim sighed "…I used to play a lot of sports and that's hard to replace so… no Danish for me." He held out the bag and Marty took it. Jim reached over and found Karen's bag. "Here, I promised to watch her back too."

Marty munched away as Jim sipped his coffee. "How'd you do that?" He gestured at Hank.

"Say no to a Danish?"

Marty rolled his eyes; Jim was so stupid sometimes. "No. Train Hank to take his pill? I got this little dog at home, well, it's my son's but anyway, she needs to take pills every now and then to make sure she doesn't come into heat." Marty shook his head and sighed. "Every time, it's like a circus. I chase her, she runs. She thinks it's a game. Won't let me catch her and she won't stop until she's tired. Then she comes and climbs in to my lap and gives me that puppy eye look like she's so grateful for the game we played. By then, I'm exhausted and still I gotta get the pill in her. Usually, I end up with more of the blue pills on me."

"Sounds to me like you enjoy it, Marty."

"I'd rather have a trained dog like yours."

"Costly." Jim wasn't referring to money.

"No, I don't mean a guide dog. Is that where he learned how to take a pill?"

Karen returned from the locker room with several coffees. "Marty, it's not Hank that's trained to take the pill, it's Jim that's trained to give it, right Jim?"

Jim shrugged. "Bit of both I guess."

"You good with dogs, before… you know?"

"Hank's my first dog."

"Oh."

"Hey, where's my Danish?" Karen did not sound happy.

Marty quickly pushed the rest of the cherry and pastry into his mouth and pointed at Jim.

She turned, hands on her hips, but he beat her to it.

"You asked me to help you. I'm just getting your back."

Walking into the squad the next morning, Hank pricked up his ears. Jim noticed his dog's attention shifting to the corridor, "What's up boy?" he asked quietly, but directed Hank to the desk and his spot under the window.

A few moments later, a female voice accompanied Marty's down the corridor. Jim cocked his head, was that the sound of a dog?

"Ah, Jim, you remember my wife, Elise?"

Jim smiled. Marty's wife was a nice girl, nothing like he'd expect Marty to find. Tiny, not even five foot. She had silky soft hair that always smelled like baby powder, and she spoke like a little girl. She usually sought Jim out at the obligatory squad and precinct functions, they'd share a few words and sit in comfortable silence. Jim enjoyed the fact that she was one of those people who didn't feel the need to fill all the gaps in conversation. "Hey, Elise, it's been a while."

"Yeah," she came up and put her hand on Jim's arm. He bent over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "How've things been?"

"Good."

"And the kids?"

"Doing great. And I don't know if Marty told you, but I'm expecting again."

"Really? No. Marty why you keeping it a secret?"

"Well, I just forgot, I mean it's pretty obvious to the rest of us."

Jim grinned in Elise's direction. "Do you know?"

"Yeah," her smile overflowed into her voice, she couldn't keep the excitement down. "Finally, I'm getting a girl."

"I'm happy for you. Give me another kiss." He held out his arms and she came up for a gentle hug and kiss on the head.

Then Jim sat at his desk and powered up his laptop.

"Ah, Jim, could you show Elise that thing with the dog pill?"

"What? Hank's pill? It's timed, he has to have it at 1 o'clock."

"No, I mean with my dog. I brought her." Belatedly, Jim remembered the dog sounds he had heard earlier and Hank's interest in the corridor.

"I don't know, I only ever gave pills to Hank, and like Karen said, he's trained." Jim shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Marty, I told you it wasn't fair to ask him." Elsie sounded embarrassed. Jim couldn't have that.

"Come on, we'll give it a shot." Jim stood and stepped out from behind his desk. "Where's the dog?"

"You want me to bring her over?"

"No, let's not do this in front of Hank. What about the locker room?"

"Alright."

Jim waited at his desk until Marty started walking the dog down the hall, Elsie came up beside him and took his arm. "Thanks, Jim, we have so much trouble with this at home." He had to bend low to catch her voice, it was almost a whisper.

Jim told a frowning Hank to stay and walked with Elise. "I'm not sure what I can do but I can show you how I was taught at least. If it doesn't work, you can stop by the vet on the way home, he's only a block down."

"Alright, here she is." Marty pulled Jim's hand up and put two pills in it. "And here are the pills."

Jim held them back out. "Slow down, I need to know this dog first. What's her name?"

"Fang."

"Fang?"

"My kid named her." He took in the look on Jim's face. "She's not vicious or anything."

Jim weighed the situation. Grabbing an unknown dog is stupid enough, doing it when you can't see to predict it's movements at all is plain idiocy. He squatted down and held out his hand. "Come here, Fang."

Elsie held Marty's hand and watched as Fang dropped her head and walked up to Jim, wagging her tail. She noted how erect Jim held himself and how his voice didn't go all mushy like most people who spoke to Fang.

Jim felt the dog's head come up under his hand. She was smaller than Hank, and submissive. This was good. "Sit." She wagged her tail.

Untrained. He ran his hand down her back, and when he found her rump, he repeated the command with pressure on her hind quarters. "Sit." She sat, looked up at him and wagged her tail again. "Good girl, Fang."

"You guys bring any treats?"

"Ah, no I didn't think of that."

"It's alright, Hank can spare something. Stay." Jim stood and reoriented himself with a hand on the lockers. He went to his own and brought out a few bits of dog kibble.

"Watch it, Jim, Fang's followed you, she's right in front."

"Thanks, Elise."

Jim walked to the end of the lockers again, Fang pretty much glued to his leg. He smiled. She was a sweet dog. This shouldn't be too hard.

"You'll have to tell me what she does, Marty. Fang, sit."

"Ah, she sat." Marty sounded a little impressed. Jim pushed a treat in front of her nose and she took it greedily.

"So, in the beginning, every time you give her a command, you must make sure she does it. It's no use giving her a command again and again if she doesn't obey. That actually trains her to ignore you. And you must give her the treat immediately after she does what you ask."

"Okay." Elise and Marty answered together.

Jim had Fang, sit and even stay, using treats and a commanding voice. Then he explored her face with his hands, getting her used to the idea of his fingers on her eyes, in her mouth. He needed to know how she would react if he accidentally poked her. If she was going to snap, he needed to know now. But Elsie was right, Fang was gentle, moving her head a little when his hand slipped between her teeth, trying her best not to hurt him. Good dog to have with small children around. Finally he said, "I think we're ready to try the pills. I'll try one and if it works, Marty, you do the next one alright?"

"Sure."

"Can you see what I'm doing from there?'

"Yeah." That _you're an idiot_ tone crept back into Marty's voice and Elsie elbowed him in the side.

"What?"

"Marty, Jim's not stupid, he can't tell if you can see." She spoke like a mother reprimanding a small child, annoyed but patient.

Jim managed to hide the smile.

"Alright, the way I was taught, we take her upper jaw like this." Jim held it lightly, with his left hand, moving with her as Fang moved her head left to right a little. "It's alright girl, I won't hurt you."

He held out his right hand for the pill. "Just one, Marty."

"We use the middle finger to pull the lower jaw down push the pill all the way to the back of the throat with the forefinger." As he spoke, Jim carried out the pill drop. Then he closed her mouth and massaged her throat up and down until she swallowed. Then he gave her another treat. "Good girl."

He ruffled her head and stood. "She's very smart, Marty. Learns quickly. Your turn."

Jim stepped back and Elsie came up next to him. She described Marty's actions to Jim quietly as he did it, not quite as smoothly as Jim but the pill was in and the dog was rewarded. Jim jerked around as he heard mild applause behind him. "Don't we give you enough overtime, Jim?"

"Boss?" Jim looked askance. What was the Boss doing here? Had he been watching the whole time?

"Looks like you're moonlighting as a dog trainer. If you needed more overtime, you only had to ask."

Karen stepped up to her partner and spoke under her breath. "He's joking with you."

Jim smiled. "Do you have a dog, Boss?

Lieutenant Fisk cleared his throat. "Everyone back to work."

Jim hung back with Karen as what sounded like a mass exodus retreated down the corridor and into various offices.

"How long you been there?"

"From, the moment you sat down and stuck your face in front of a dog you didn't know," Karen reprimanded him.

Jim sighed, "You're not my mother."

"Dunbar. Bettancourt. " The Lieutenant's voice echoed down the hall, forestalling that argument.

"Elsie, I gotta go."

"Will you come see the baby?" She took Jim's hand and put it on her stomach. It was huge.

"Yeah, sure. Soon huh?"

"Come on." With a big smile to Marty's wife, Karen tugged at Jim's arm and he put his hand on the back of her jacket to make faster time to the Lieutenant's office.

"So, you learn that in Blind School?"

Marty and Jim were standing back while Karen and Tom took pictures of the latest scene. The room was small, a dead mother and child lay in an embrace on the bed. Marty had elected to stay in the hallway. There were some crimes where remaining objective was harder than others.

"Marty, I got shot, I didn't go to school to learn how to be blind."

"No, I mean the dog thing."

"Rehab, it's called rehab." Jim sighed, Marty probably just needed to take his mind off the scene in the other room. "And Guide Team Training. Yeah, they taught us some cool things."

"What else?"

Jim searched his mind for an anecdote or something funny. There was precious little funny in his mind from rehab though, so he settled for a joke. "I'll come back to the squad with you in your car and show you."

"Show me what?" Marty asked.

"Touch parking."


End file.
